“From there,” Brodie continued, “we make our way to the river and the docks.”
“There are only two buildings still standing,” Munro added. “If the man has taken the girl there, she will be in one or the other.”
And if she wasn’t there? I chose not to think about that.
Munro was obviously familiar with the area as well. As I listened, I reminded myself that there was a time before Brodie was with the MET…two young men surviving on the streets of London as best they could, and whatever that might have included.
Brodie had spoken of it, dismissing it out of hand. Yet, that experience was there. I had long suspected there was far more behind that almost stoic demeanor and that intense dark gaze. It came as no shock that I had married a man with somewhat of a dark past.
I would take that against others I had known, I thought. A man I had learned that I could trust.
“We go in together as far as the back of the warehouse,” Brodie was saying, then came away from the chalkboard.
“Then I will take one and ye the other.”
Munro nodded. “There is a watchman who keeps an eye on the warehouses from a shanty at the docks. I will see to him,” he added with a look over at me.
“And another inside, I’ve seen.” He retrieved the rather ominous-looking knife in a leather sheath that he always carried and I had seen before. He tucked it into the back of his trousers.
“What about Carney?” I inquired.
Munro looked over at Brodie. “If he’s there, he will most likely be inside the one warehouse where ye said he was doing a bit of business.”
“Aye, “Brodie nodded. “Still, we have no way of knowing where he’s taken Lily. We need to keep him alive long enough to find out where the girl is.”
I knew what he was saying and pushed back any misgivings or feelings of guilt over what they intended.
“We should go while there is still light,” Munro said.
The weather had not eased. His coat was dark in places as he had not bothered with an umbrella. Brodie was dressed much the same, in worn clothes, as he had been earlier that morning.
Anyone who saw them would assume they were nothing more than common workers, perhaps like those Miss Effie had spoken of, hoping to find work.
I went into the adjoining bedroom. My worst fear was that we might be too late, that Lily might have come to harm, or worse.
“The thought will do her no good,” Brodie had told me when I voiced my fear.
I knew he was right, but it was still there.
I had worn a walking skirt for my travel to Knightsbridge earlier in the day. With a jacket over, hardly the sort of costumethat would disguise me. Still, I had my stout walking boots, wool neck scarf, and long coat.
It would have to do. Time was critical and I would not delay long enough to return to Mayfair for something more appropriate. And there was always the possibility that Brodie and Munro would take the opportunity to leave without me.
There had been that brief conversation when I had no idea what was said. I would not have put it past either one of them.
“I am ready,” I announced as I returned to the outer office.
I had already checked the revolver that Brodie insisted I carry when on an inquiry case, and I had slipped the knife Munro had given me down the inside of my boot.
Brodie had set the time to leave for ten o’clock that night, as that would give anyone at the warehouse where we hoped to find Lily time enough to be well ‘into the drink,’ as he described it.
I ignored both of them as I put on my long coat, and pulled on a brimmed hat against the rain. I didn’t wait for either acknowledgement as I pulled on my gloves, then left the office.
I found the wagon at the back of the smoke shop and found Mr. Cavendish with the team of horses.
“You’d best take the hound for what you need to do.”
Rupert sat on the pavement beside Mr. Cavendish’s platform.
